Happy Valentines Day
Meadow to George:
I have not heard from you for so very long; in fact, it took me some time time to find you… but I am still here.
When your location hit me, it was like some unwanted wind, thrashing across the landscape of me. I’ve learned that they take a field as I, and raze it terribly to build these prisons like the one you are “warehoused” in. What I really don’t understand is, why, why do they keep someone like you there endlessly. For I remember you well, I remember how your eyes absorbed the running green of me. I remember how the wild flowers, their colors, their smell, would make you ponder on the pleasent things in life. I remeber how you would never walk, run or ride thy horse through the flowers of my relatives. I also remember, forgive my boldness, the way you loved under the sun upon a clean soft spot of them. Yes, I ask why, why do they keep one as you, a true lover of land, land far reaching, a reaching that makes the soul follow.
I have sent messeges, with birds, bees, and even the bugs that are so titching to me, across the meadows elsewhere. Hopefully, our land spirit will build up, bringing a scent. A scent that may change the thinking of man. A scent that will sink into the minds of those that keep you “warehoused”.
Oh George, come back to me, my green, my flowers, my dew, and most of all, my sound awaits you; awaits till the dawns cease and forever more after that.
Happy Valentines Day,
Your Meadow
George to Meadow:
Your letter found me when I truely most needed it; a dark day of rain. After reading it, oh, how I sat there and daydreamed of you. What a beautiful meadow you are. Did you know I gave you a name? yes I did, “Teeair”. I remember when I was in your region. How you were the first that I went to, once caged. I went to you, winter, spring, summer and fall. I rememeber how you were gray in the winter, not very nice to me. But, in the spring and summer, you were my truely my girl. And, to let on alittle more, fall, oh fall, with the strong cool wind slicing over you, at times brought tears to my eyes. I bet you thought it was the wind making them tear, huh? Well, no my dear, it was you.
Now that I know from your letter that the machines of man have not de-faced you… I am happy. In fact, I have asked a friend to go and get me a picture or two of thee so that I can hang in front of me. Would you like that?? Is it ok?? … Well, if when he comes to to take the shots and you wish it not; you can send the bees upon him and I will know your standing on the matter.
Anyways, again, the letter from you made my day. You made me think of the days when I am free again and can enjoy you and all of your meadow relatives. How I will enjoy your scents and beauty.
Oh yeah, please do write me in all the seasons, especially in late spring when all your rich colors begin to really appear for summer’s stay.
Yes, you Teeair are my true love, the only one left after all these years,
Signed,
George, the Meadow Lover